Oxide
by Vosphere
Summary: A new danger to the Commonwealth strikes as the fragile peace too many had fought and bled for starts to crumble. Unfortunately, the key to everyone's survival lays in the hands of a clumsy scavenger, an ex-raider junkie, and a certain naive scientist robot. Set in an alternate main story ending where the Insitute was destroyed but the Brotherhood and Minutemen are in a cold war.


Chapter 1: Welcome the Wastes 

Dust. _Dust to dust_, as a pastor would say to his flock while they wept for their lost ones. Ash. A_shes to ashes_, as the pyre of whole world went up in atomic flames.

Nothing except the dust and ash of the old forgotten world remained in the irradiated wastes. The priest and his congregation long since departed from the mortal realm some two hundred years ago, only the charred and petrified remains of the church they once prayed within stood against the bleakness of the Glowing Sea. Half sunken into the endless dunes the steeple stood watch over the remains of it's patrons.

Bright flashes arched across the tumultuous dark clouds, each unnatural green spark ionizing the air and spreading deadly radioactive particles.

Aside from the occasional distant boom of thunder silence reigned like an authoritarian despot, smothering all who opposed with dunes of soot and gradual erosion. The stillness was eerie, unnatural, and unholy; for the world abhorred a vacuum and demanded constant change.

The centuries old status quo was shifted, ever so slightly, as footprints in the baked sands marked a trail leading from the South West. From past the towering volcano of irradiation they came, a path only the suicidal, foolish, or reckless dared to tread. The prints were soft, shallow, and microscopic compared to the denizens of the Glowing Sea. Yet, in a sure and straight line they followed, their owner resolute in his bearings. Onwards, these indents in the sand marched, until one could spot the owner.

Against the ocean of desolation, a single figure strode. Ragged cloth fashioned into a makeshift poncho covered the person's body from the neck down. As the intruder took each step the muddy covering flapped about, however nothing beneath was revealed nor was the true shape of the figure given away. An arsenal of armaments and armour could have been concealed, or perhaps there was nothing but a skeleton beneath the rags, it was nearly impossible to tell with how the fabric flowed this way and that.

Atop the walking mystery was something most peculiar; beneath a canvas hood glowed two circular emeralds, their piercing gaze slicing through the shadows of the hood. Those inhuman orbs held nothing in them, not a spec of emotion nor did they reveal the true eyes hidden behind the thick glass.

As distant mutants and abominations gazed upon the invader from beyond the Glow a shiver would race down their spines, causing most of the lower chattle to flee as a gnawing sense of dread overtook them. This human wasn't squishy like the others; something about the way it walked, the way it disregarded it's surroundings like they didn't even exist, or maybe it was just pure instinct that told many that they should stay clear.

Not all cowered before the lone figure, for there was one that took the highest offence to this puny trespassers on his territory. Up upon a hilltop a pair of bloodshot reptilian eyes glared downwards, from the shadows they tracked their target. Malace radiated from the rocky crag like split open reactor.

The gall to tread upon the territory of the most glorious apex predator of the wastes! His kingdom spanned endless swathes of land, the bones of the foes he had slain littered his cave, his pack of females were many and his rivals were fewer than none! The Emperor Deathclaw sneered at this offence to his authority, for non could dare cross his territory unscathed!

As he watched the human his ire grew tenfold, pitch dark scales rippled as blood and rage pumped through mightiest of all beasts!

With a mighty roar the ancient Deathclaw reared upon his haunches; mighty arms bulging with tendons and sinew the width of tree trunks spread themselves to either side, razor talons the length of an average human glistening in the pale green gloom. It would only take but one claw to shred even the hardest of human armours, this insignificant_ vermin_ wasn't worth a painless death however, and the Emperor would make sure it wasn't.

The figure never changed directions to face the threat now barreling towards it, nor did it even spare it more than a passing glance. If anything it seemed to ignore the impending mortal threat.

A hundred meters away and with each bound the ground shook with miniature earthquakes.

Fifty meters and the sound of each lung full of pure hate echoed around the stranger.

Ten meters and the Emperor would nearly be upon his target, his glowing red eyes narrowed as they tried to still peer past the shroud of this puny human. A predatory grin stretched across his fangs, no matter, soon the dirt rag would be ripped from the wearer along with it's weak flesh.

Then, it happened in what must have been fractions of a second; two things happened simultaneously, the left hand of the figure appeared from beneath the cloak, in it's grasp was what looked like a canvas satchel. The right hand dropped down gripping an ornately engraved six shooter. Cold gunmetal steel with a gold trim glinted as the flash of a bolt of lightning from the rad storm lit up the dunes. All it took was a single pirouette and the satchel was tossed with enough centrifugal force to land upon the stunned Deathclaw's muzzle.

None of the mutant spawn watching could tell if it was the sound of the thunder or the resulting explosion that blossomed over the Emperor's head as the cloaked figure shot the bag filled with explosives, none seemed to be anything other than shocked to stillness to really care either.

Upon the ground lay the Emperor, who had seemed to have met his match at last. Half his face was nothing more than mulched gore, his left horn was missing, and all the once mighty Emperor of the Glowing Sea could do was pitifully whine as all the life blood leaked out of him onto the dusty barren landscape.

Taking no more than a moment to silently bow it's head towards the dying beast, as though it was merely nodding goodbye to a distant acquaintance, the stranger carried on walking along it's original path.

Slowly, the edge of the Glowing Sea crept closer and closer.

A/N:

Thank you for reading! I'll be updating the story as frequently as I can, but as I'm experimenting with taking inspiration for some events from my current playthrough it might be about a week until the next chapter. Some things won't be 100% vanilla content (i.e. I'll be calling a 'Handmade Rifle' an Ak-47 and such). I hope you enjoy my little story, and please feel free to comment/review!

Regards,

Vos.


End file.
